


Take It Slow (gonna make it last)

by ShippingEverything



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Anna is a lesbian, F/F, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Priapia, tagged for underage bc minor mentions of ilse sleeping with men when she was underaged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-15 16:36:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12324795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingEverything/pseuds/ShippingEverything
Summary: Anna makes an irritated noise.“Are you going to just poke at me for the rest of the night?”“Oh, honey," Ilse says, smirking, "You’d be surprised how good a ‘poke’ can feel sometimes."or: ilse and anna hook up





	Take It Slow (gonna make it last)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [howveryzoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/howveryzoe/gifts).



> this was quite possibly the most difficult piece i've ever worked with, but i think i'm happy with how it's turned out. i hope you enjoy it. title from WALK THE MOON's _Jenny_ , though i fought with myself over whether or not i should've used the Studio Killer's song of the same name. for my darling girlfriend who asked for more kissing in the last fic i posted; happy anniversary, i hope this has enough kissing for you <3
> 
> and yes i see the irony in titling a fic of porn with minimal plot "take it slow"
> 
> minor tw for mentions of child sexual assault, underage sex (the consent of which was dubious), prostitution, and general objectification at the beginning.

 

Ilse Neumann is used to being a sex symbol. She’s too tall and too thin and her nose is just a bit too big for her face, but when you run away from your father at 16 and have to make a living with drunkards and druggies and _artists_ who don’t care about age of consent and have few other options for companionship, you learn to live with being objectified. Ilse has posed for artists--dressed, half-dressed, scantily dressed, nude--and she’s stripped for money and, yes, she’s slept with men for food and shelter and protection before; she’s laid back and closed her eyes and imagined she was anywhere else, or held on and buried her dark thoughts and allowed herself to be consumed by the repetitive nature of rough, empty sex.

So yeah, Ilse’s been a sex symbol, she’s done things she didn’t want to do, she’s been fucked, but she’s never felt like this.

She’s cross-legged on Anna’s bed, in middle of the goddamn night, lit only by a fake candle night light. It’s ridiculous, cheesy, corny, and Ilse would be cackling at it if the dumb flickering light wasn’t illuminating Anna’s face, if Anna didn’t look like she wanted to swallow Ilse whole.

 _And I’m not even wearing my nice underwear_ , Ilse thinks, maddeningly.

It had started as something dumb, a “How did you know you were into girls?” and an “I’ve never done this before” and an eyeroll from Ilse and a hesitant kiss from Anna, but somehow they’d ended up here, in their bras and underwear on Anna’s bed at 2am.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Anna says sheepishly, though her pupils are still blown and focused, heavy and dark, on Ilse.

“Well,” Ilse says after a moment, “You already got me naked, so.”

“You’re not all naked,” Anna points out, then flushes so bright it makes the nightlight pale in comparison. It’s splotchy and covers nearly her whole face, and Ilse finds it absolutely _endearing_.

Ilse smirks and reaches behind her back to undo her bra. “You only had to ask.”

Anna flushes more, but she doesn’t stop Ilse as she shimmies off her bra and panties. She watches, eyes shifting slowly along every sharp edge and fleshy curve of Ilse’s body as though she’s trying to memorize them. It’s more than a bit disarming to be stared at with such firm but soft intent and Ilse, who has been naked countless times in the past four years, finds herself inexplicably shy. Anna opens her mouth, probably to say something inane and/or ridiculously kind, but Ilse presses her lips to Anna’s before Anna can speak.

It’s hard to remember that Anna had barely kissed anyone, much less made out, mere months ago, because that’s how much Anna has progressed since she and Ilse started doing whatever this is. Anna curls a hand into Ilse’s short hair, the other slipping forward to cup Ilse’s jaw. Ilse moves her own hands onto the soft curves of Anna’s hips, sliding up and down Anna’s side as she allows herself to relax into the kiss.

Ilse breaks it, blinking back into the moment, and asks, “Can I take off your bra?”

Anna, who had finally gotten her blush under control, lights up red. It spreads across the apples of her cheeks and down until it defuses prettily over her collarbones. “I- yes?”

“Yes?” Ilse raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have to say yes-”

“No!” Anna says, then slaps a hand over her mouth. Ilse and Anna both freeze, because it is _two in the morning_ and Ilse is naked in Anna’s bed, and no matter how how old Anna is or how liberal the Wheelan’s are, Ilse doesn’t think they’d be okay with this. Luckily, the thickness of the walls and the distance between Anna’s room and her parents’ keeps them from being discovered. Anna continues, in a whisper, “No, I don’t- I don’t not want to, you know, strip, but my boobs are like… weird shaped, and I have these stretch marks, and you’re just so pretty, I mean…”

Anna trails off lamely. Ilse resists the urge to roll her eyes. “I’m not going to say you’re not allowed to think that, but I find you incredibly attractive, obviously, and--know that you don’t have to agree but you deserve to know, full disclosure and whatever--I’d like to kiss your tits a bit, so,” Ilse looks at Anna, waiting for a response. Anna blinks dumbly at Ilse. “It’s fine if you don’t want to.”

Anna works her mouth for a few moments before she manages to speak. “I… would be very into that.”

“So I can undo your bra?”

“Please.”

Ilse smiles, and she imagines that it might look wolfish. She presses another kiss onto Anna’s soft lips, and then migrates her lips down to Anna’s neck, biting hard enough to feel but light enough that it won’t leave a mark. She deftly unbuckles Anna’s bra and slips it down Anna’s arms, then begins moving downward, peppering Anna’s skin with kisses. She cups one of Anna’s breasts, thumbing over the nipples, and Anna gasps, arching her back into the touch. Anna’s boobs aren’t huge, but they’re still too big for even Ilse’s piano-fingered hands, patterned with stretch marks along the bottom; her nipples are tanned, nearly as dark as Ilse’s own skin, standing out against the sheer _pinkness_ of Anna’s flushed, heaving chest. Ilse, unable to help herself, uses her thumb to firmly press into the soft skin a few times, watching with amusement how the flush leaves and rushes back into the indented space. Anna makes an irritated noise.

“Are you going to just poke at me for the rest of the night?”

“Oh, honey, you’d be surprised how good a ‘poke’ can feel sometimes,” Ilse says, smirking up at Anna. She goes red again, much to Ilse’s delight, but the unimpressed look doesn’t leave her face. Ilse rolls her eyes good-naturedly, moving both her hands back to Anna’s hips, “Relax, Anna. I don’t know what you’ve heard or seen, but it doesn’t have to be this serious affair.”

“I just,” Anna breaks eye contact and looks down at the sheets below them, sighing (and _what a sight_ it is to watch her tits bounce uninhibited as she does so, god, Ilse could just eat her right up), “Don’t want to do it wrong.”

“Well, according to the heterosexuals, you’ve already failed step one,” Anna looks up, eyes wide with shock, and Ilse allows a teasing smile to spread across her face, “There’s no ‘right way.’ Just tell me what feels good and tell me if you want to stop, okay?”

“Okay,” Anna says, but it’s still hesitant. Ilse completely removes her hands from Anna’s body and scoots back, causing Anna to frown at her.

“Listen, I know I’m being a buzzkill, but this means a lot to me,” Ilse says and Anna’s eyes widen in understanding, and she opens her mouth to speak. Ilse puts a single finger on her lips, shushing her. “Don’t. Just promise me that if you’ll let me know if you don’t like what I’m doing, or want more of something, or anything.”

Ilse removes her finger, but Anna takes her hand into both of Anna’s before Ilse can pull it back. Anna’s thumbs rub lopsided ovals onto the back of her hand but Ilse can barely focus on that because of the intensity with which Anna is looking at her. “I promise.”

“Well, uh,” Ilse says, blinking a few times but still unable to really break eye contact. “Good.”

“Good.”

“Good,” Ilse repeats, inexplicably. She can feel her face heating up. “So, what do you want?”

Anna thinks for a second. “I liked it when you touched my nipple.”

 _I barely brushed it_ , Ilse thinks, _Honey, you’ve got a big storm coming._ Regardless, she returns one of her hands to Anna’s boob, placing the other one onto Anna’s hip. She massages Anna’s breast, reveling in how Anna squirms below her. She bends more to lower her mouth onto Anna’s breast, kissing the place where it swells from her chest, and continues down, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses until she’s able to latch her mouth around Anna’s nipple, sucking gently. Anna gasps, obviously sensitive.

Ilse continues like this, switching every now and then as she sucks and nibbles and licks, making sure whatever boob isn't getting her mouth is still well attended to by her hand, as Anna presses a hand into the back of Ilse's hand and arches her back, trying to pull Ilse as close as possible. Then, when Ilse is swapping tits and her hands are switching position from Anna’s chest to her hips and vice versa, the pinky and ring finger on her left hand slides too low as her fingers spread out on Anna's hip, slipping below the boundary of Anna’s underwear. Anna’s hips buck and she makes a cut off whining noise. Ilse pulls back, shocked.

“I,” Ilse stops, unsure what she wants to say. _Sorry I succeeded in trying to turn you on_? “You're really sensitive.”

Anna looks at Ilse from beneath hooded eyes and her chest moves drastically as she tries to catch her breath. She gasps out, “No kidding.”

Ilse wants to say more, but she can’t stop herself from leaning forward and catching Anna’s bite-swollen lips with her own. Anna makes a noise of surprise but melts into the kiss, letting her mouth fall open under Ilse’s prodding. Ilse slides a hand down Anna’s body, slipping under Anna’s panties to cup and grab at her full ass. After a moment, Ilse pulls back and asks, “Can I take your underwear off?”

Anna bites her lip and looks off to the side, “Well-”

“Remember what you promised.”

“I…” Anna sighs, redirecting her eyes back to Ilse’s. “I would rather you didn’t.”

“Alright. Can I still touch you?”

“Down there?” Anna asks, like she’s a middle schooler or something and like Ilse didn’t _just_ have her hands in Anna’s pants. It’s adorable and ridiculous. Ilse nods, and Anna bites her lip again, though this time it seems to be less from unsurety and more from attraction. Ilse can _see_ her pupils expanding. “I, uh, yeah.”

“Under or over?” Ilse asks, because it’s an important distinction.

“Either,” Anna says quickly, her voice cracking. Ilse can’t stop herself from snickering, even as Anna clears her throat and tries again. “Either is fine. I’d just rather keep them on.”

 _She’s so cute_ , Ilse thinks, before she kisses Anna again. Ilse rocks into her, pressing their bodies together, and Anna readily opens herself up. Ilse slides a hand between them, working down their bodies until she can feel Anna, a thin layer of cotton underwear the only thing between Ilse’s fingers and the lips of her vag.

Ilse presses, experimentally, and Anna’s hips buck again, moaning into Ilse’s mouth. Ilse runs her fingers up and down the slit, feeling Anna’s panties grow more and more wet, reveling in the hot, slick feeling. Anna pulls away from Ilse’s mouth, leaning into Ilse’s shoulder.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Anna whispers, gasps, “God, _Ilse_.”

Ilse uses her other hand to rub Anna’s back as Anna alternates between mouthing at Ilse’s shoulder and whimpering into it. After a while, Ilse moves her hand back, ignoring Anna’s resulting whine. Ilse licks her index and middle fingers, enjoying the slight taste of Anna on them, before placing them back, this time inside Anna’s underwear. She fingers Anna’s clit in slow, hard circles as Anna makes beautiful, muffled sounds into her neck. Ilse alternates between sliding her fingers up and down Anna’s slit and working on her clit, until Anna’s body shudders once, twice, then goes still. Ilse pulls her hand out, fingers glistening with Anna’s juices, and licks them off as Anna catches her breath.

“That was… Amazing,” Anna says. Ilse hums around her fingers and when Anna looks up and sees her, Anna turns bright red. “I can’t believe you.”

Ilse smiles like a cat that’s gotten the cream. “I like pussy, Anna.”

Anna groans, leaning her hot face back into Ilse’s neck. Ilse rolls her eyes fondly and gently strokes Anna’s hair with the hand that hadn’t been inside her. She’ll definitely have to do this again.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! 
> 
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